Dark Omens
by BuBuWinter
Summary: Krokotopians love nothing more than sun and fire. It shields, warms, and protects their fragile way of life. With all light though, there comes a shadow, dark, ready to rip open the very fabric of the universe. Traitors are becoming leaders, heroes are becoming villains, legends are becoming true. Dark omens are coming, and all those cursed with night-birth be damned.
1. Prologue

_**AN: Voila! New story! xP This is pretty much a back story for my character I submitted for Caitlin-Silver's story, though there will be differences between her story and mine. I loved her too much to put the idea on hold and I hope you find her interesting too! Hope you enjoy! (Takes place in ancient Krokotopia about 1000 years before the Malistaire incident; still debating the exact time period.)  
**_

_**Rating: T/Light M for blood and violence, language, and possible suggestive themes. I don't plan anything explicit as I feel uncomfortable doing so, be it gore or…ya know, but that can easily change. I am a writer who believes in the power of descriptive words after all.  
**_

_****I've created different species of kroks and manders. I'll leave a basic description of each on my profile till something better can be arranged. HIGHLY suggest you look at them.**_

**Prologue **

_Krokotopians love nothing more than sunlight and fire. _

The rippling flames and warming sunlight are like blankets wrapping around their precious world in order to protect that of which is most dearest to them. Leaders are made when the sun rises, a sign of a new beginning, a new Order. Prophecies of grandeur and hope revolve around flame and star, lighting the pathways so that it may be made clear to all those involved. Children born at midday, when the sun is at its peak and the fires burn at their brightest, are destined to be have long, prosperous lives. The lucky individuals born at this time are known only as Kroks.

Not every child is born at midday though. Manders – bless their good wills and noble hearts – are always born at sunset, where light gives way to darkness. Because of this, they are thought of as a weak, spineless people without a single flare of light in their hearts. They're made into slaves, doing hard labor until they break down altogether. Most died young, and those lucky few who survive past twenty are put under more pressure and strain. They never lasted long.

So what of the humans of the world? They – unlike the Kroks and Manders – are more sporadic, undecided. Most are at least lucky enough to be born in the light of the sun, so they lived as citizens of the world, able to rise to royalty or sink to slavery. But there were still those few who aren't born in sunlight at all, but in the cold darkness of night. They weren't just considered lowlier than the pitiful Manders; they were fated to bring darkness to the world.

It was on one such night where the moon was but a sliver of gold in a starless sky that a human was born, a little girl that seemed to be shrouded in darkness and despair.

"Hush my child," the mother murmured quietly to her crying newborn, her voice so quiet and strained her husband had to lean closer in order to hear her. She smiled fondly at the child, a sad, pain-stricken smile. The small, broken family huddled closer together, sand crunching beneath them as they moved. They dared not give birth in the village; the guards would've surely taken her away as soon as she had been birthed to be turned into a slave, or worse, incinerated.

"They'll be coming for us soon, Estasha," the father murmured into his wife's ear, planting a quick, rather dry kiss to her temple. "We're foolish parents,"

"I won't let my daughter be damned," Estasha hissed quietly, pulling her daughter closer to her chest in an effort to warm the naked bundle. She looked to her husband, bright amber eyes flashing with the fiery light of a mother's love. "Aleskar we can't give her to those bastard Kroks,"

"We'll lose our lives," Aleskar suddenly looked up, scanning the surrounding area as the sound of swishing, crunching sand broke the eerie stillness of the night. Estasha winced, beginning to rock her child back and forth in an effort to comfort both the baby and herself. Aleskar pressed his forehead to hers, murmuring a quiet prayer to the sun gods before addressing his wife once again. "She's already been damned with night-birth. Do you want to let her suffer in life rather than be at peace with death?"

"I want her to have a chance," Chance, Aleskar knew, was precious to his wife, and had he been honest with himself at the time it was precious to him as well. He stared down at the wet bundle in his wife's arms, a bloodied mess of dark skin and hair, her little eyes shut tight and a frown upon her lips. He thought and he thought, trying to decide what to do. Damnation wasn't an answer, not to his beloved, but what else could they do? Estasha looked at him with eyes filled with hopeless determination. "Let her have a chance to show that light can shine even in the darkest times,"

That single sentence was what changed the fate of the newborn. Aleskar kissed his wife passionately before surging to his feet, glancing around him wildly as sounds of howling Wargs ripped the still fabric of the air, echoing through the night. Estasha stared up at him wide-eyed. "What do you plan to do?"

"J'skaar will help to raise her,"

"But he's a mere slave! Will she be…?" Estasha trailed off, staring down at her precious daughter. There was no doubt in her mind J'skaar would take good care of her beautiful daughter, but his wife was a cruel, racist thing, and suddenly she was wondering if it really was better for her daughter to be handed to the Kroks. Aleskar ran his fingers through his wife's hair.

"His wife is a questionable being to be sure," he murmured, eyes darting this way and that as sounds of shuffling feet suddenly echoed through the night. "J'skaar is good though. He will protect the baby. Now please," he held his arms out to her. "Let me take her to him. For a chance,"

Estasha would have liked to sit there all night in the sand and contemplate what to do, what their best bet would be, but there was no time for that now. She shoved her daughter into her husband's hands, causing the infant to whine out in surprise. The helpless mother watched, grief-stricken, as her husband ran off in the direction of the town.

Slowly, carefully, she reached over and grabbed the spear that had been laying at her side, hidden in the depths of the sand. She struggled to her feet, taking a rather sloppy fighting stance as Wargs suddenly came out from the shadows, circling her and snapping at her ankles, eyes glistening ravenously. Guards slowly followed their beasts, pointing spears and swords in her direction, ready to kill upon command. One of them, a rather tall, ugly fellow garbed in bronze armor raised his reptilian hand, and all movement ceased. Estasha swayed slightly on her feet, clutching her weapon so tightly her knuckles had gone pure white.

"Where is the child?" The bronze-armored Krok hissed, golden eyes glistening dangerously in the dark. Estasha was tall for a human woman, but the monster before her was still a good foot taller than her, and she found herself trembling with fear as she looked up at him, knowing that it was here and now, fighting to protect her broken family, that she would meet her end. A sudden sense of calmness came over her as she thought about her daughter, her beautiful little daughter, and taking a deep breath her amber eyes hardened, and holding the spear in one hand she drew out her short sword with the other. She was still shaky at the prospect of meeting her end, but for her daughter, her family, she would do anything.

"She's far, far away from the likes of you…" She spat, raising her sword to meet the surely oncoming attack. She thought she would fall to the sounds of steel against steel in a ferocious fight, her last breath one of a fallen warrior, but before her sword had a chance to crash down upon her enemy, her head had been severed from her shoulders, staining the sands below her a dark crimson red as her once beautiful eyes, filled with the undying love of a mother, stared blankly into nothingness.

* * *

Aleskar wasn't sure how long he had been running. He wasn't sure if his wife had survived. He wasn't sure of anything as he ran through the night, dodging guards that watched over the poor, makeshift village and rounding corners to avoid being seen in firelight. He paused for a brief moment in an effort to catch his breath, leaning against a wall and looking down at his daughter. She was whining quietly, not exactly crying but not exactly laughing either. He kissed her forehead, wrapping her around more tightly with his cloak in order to keep her warm.

_My dear you've no need to worry, _he thought, brushing the dust off her cheeks before breaking into a steady jog towards another part of the village, a place referred to only as Shar. Torn up white tarps and broken down shacks dotted the area, and no fire had been lit to show where one road ends or another begins. Enslaved manders – with baskets atop their heads and chains at their ankles - looked on at the odd pair of humans without a slightest hint of interest glinting in their eyes. To them, it was just another desperate parent trying to get their child away from living hell to some non-existent haven.

Suddenly Aleskar came to a stop in front of a small, holey white tent, hesitating at its entrance. He didn't want to walk in only to find J'skaar's wife Hala, who would surely turn the infant away without a moment's thought, so he sat down in front of the tent, waiting, watching as his daughters breath became more and more labored. She needed food, milk, _something_ in her small tummy. Finally, just as Aleskar's hope was beginning to fade, the tent behind him moved slightly, and glancing over he saw a skinny Mander with dark blue skin stretched thinly over his bones.

"J'skaar!" Aleskar jumped to his feet, causing his poor friend to jump in surprise. J'skaar's yellow eyes glinted with mingled relief and confusion as he saw him, and quickly looking around to be sure they were alone he came over to meet his friend, resting a callused hand on the man's shoulder.

"Foolish Aleskar, what are you doing here?" he hissed urgently. Aleskar gave no response, only angling his daughter so that the Mander could fully see her. Her eyes were closed now, her labored breathing now a gentle wheezing. J'skaar stared wide-eyed at the creature in his friend's arms as if he'd never seen a baby in his life. "Is this-"

"My child, yes, it is," Aleskar murmured quietly, shifting closer to his friend as a few slaves passed by them. J'skaar looked at him in confusion.

"It is night-birthed?" Aleskar nodded.

"Please, old friend, I need you to care for her. Feed her, bathe her, do what you must, what you can, so that she may have a chance to live,"

"Aleskar, I-"

"Please J'skaar!"

"But Hala-"

"Damn her then!" Aleskar snapped suddenly, causing his friend to flinch in surprise. The man was growing paranoid, his eyes darting around every time something moved or made a sound. J'skaar winced and looked back at the helpless bundle. Briefly he wondered if the human child would ever consider him - a simple, enslaved Mander - family. Aleskar stared pleadingly at his friend.

"Please J'skaar, just until she's well and old enough to care for herself," J'skaar let out a shaky sigh.

"Alright, my friend, I will do all I can. I won't make any foolish promises though. She lives or she dies," Aleskar visibly relaxed, tears filling his eyes as an incredible sense of relief and peace came over him. Carefully he handed the Mander his only child, making sure his cloak was still wrapped tightly around her small, fragile frame. J'skaar awkwardly held her in his thin arms, his eyes softening as he cradled her.

"What is her name?" he asked, looking at his friend. Aleskar opened his mouth as if to respond, but snarling Wargs and the rushing sound of feet on stone and sand interrupted him, and as fear shot through his heart he quickly forgot about his friend's question, and kissing his daughter in a final farewell he bolted blindly off to the south, hoping that somehow his smaller size would allow for him to outrun the large, detestable Kroks. J'skaar looked after him in confusion, then pain, as he realized that he would never see his friend again. The man was good as dead if they caught up, and if not that he would be forgotten in the wilds of Krokotopia. He looked down helplessly at his now-daughter, and when the howling of Wargs grew louder he held his breath and hid the child's face in his chest, quickly retreating back into his tent.

Hala was elderly, even for a Mander, with dry, wrinkly violet skin and pale blue eyes that have long since lost their luminous glow. The only reason J'skaar had married her was because the ceremony had been arranged one. _A__ll_ Mander marriages were arranged in order for procreation to occur, and J'skaar himself had several other sons whose names were all but lost to him now. She was sitting down awkwardly on the ground in a patch of dry hay and moss collected from the Oasis, and when the unsteady tent shook she slowly looked up at him strangely, as if to wonder why he was back so soon.

"What happened, J'skaar? Thought you went marketing," the old, senile Mander hissed, her short tail twitching to and fro in irritation. J'skaar – to keep from snapping at her – always did his best to remind himself that she was a Sillo Mander, aggressive and possessive by nature, so in truth it wasn't much her fault, but even so he had to bite his lip to keep from insulting her with a sharp retort.

"Aleskar was out. He-he gave me something…" J'skaar murmured awkwardly, swaying slightly on his feet as he stared at his wife. Hala narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well? What is this gift that bastard human gave?" Hala despised nothing else more than a human. Greedy, power-hungry, materialistic creatures as she would say, and J'skaar knew this. He gulped, feeling his muscles begin to tense.

"His child," As he said this J'skaar tilted the nameless baby so her dark-skinned face could be seen. Hala's eyes widened for a moment, the narrowed, and she repeated the same action several more times before responding.

"Rid it," she hissed sourly. "I will not own a naked _rat_ as a pet!"

"Hala dear, please! Just think!" J'skaar begged his wife, kneeling down beside the much older Mander so that she could have a clearer view of the infant. He knew that no matter how much he begged, how much he tried, Hala would refuse. Suddenly a thought came to mind, and forcibly he turned her head in his direction. "The child is human – a creature you despise for all the right reasons, but _think. _She can have mander-heart and soul if we were to raise her, keep her safe, then when she's older, she could rise in nobility. No one may realize it, but mander-heart will be noble, not human heart, and perhaps you may prove your point of Sillo Manders superiority,"

This caused Hala to at least think, and J'skaar let out a breath of relief. They seemed to sit there for hours, waiting for her to come to some type of decision. Finally, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Very well, J'skaar," she hissed coldly, clearly not fond of the idea however much it made sense to her now. "We shall raise her, but I will never consider her a daughter, and her name must be Eclipse, for night-birth is the darkest curse of all, and whether you live to see it or not, she will bring more pain and shadow than you will ever know."


	2. Chapter 1: Burning Sands

**_AN: I wanted this up sooner, but I spent a whole freaking day trying to figure out how to start it. I managed to get about 4,000 words in though, which is a pretty decent word count. Admittedly, somethings could've been done better (like the chapter title), but overall I'm semi-proud of it. Hope you enjoy!_**

**Translations:_ Mis discuplas - my apologies_**

**Responses to Reviews_ :D Thank you guys!_**

**Caitlin-Silver:_ :P You'll find I'm a very dark person when it comes to writing. A lot of things are going to be sad in my stories, especially in this fic. If it's not sad, it's probably very twisted. xP_**

**Ammaarah01_:__ I wouldn't say it's "scary" per-say, but rather more realistic. It wasn't a happy time when the Manders were enslaved xP Some things are a bit different from Caitlin's story and mine, so be warned of any differences regarding how she became leader and all that, but it's the same premise. Glad you think she's interesting! :D_**

**Chapter 1: Burning Sands  
**

Eclipse woke to the sound of snapping whips and blood-curdling screams. It was an everyday occurrence, and while Eclipse had grown rather used to it over the years it didn't change the fact that when she would go outside there would be new blood staining the stone and sand beneath her. Sometimes she would even walk out to find the dead body of a rotting Mander, a Krok towering above the mangled body without the slightest hint of compassion shown on his scaly face.

It had been thirteen years since she had been birthed, thirteen years living in a place that could only be described as _hell._ For the past couple of years she had described herself as an orphan, and while J'skaar was very dear to her it was hard to consider an enslaved Mander her father. She didn't have a mother, and whenever she would ask of her J'skaar would only tell her of Hala, a Silla Mander with a sharp wit and even sharper tongue.

It was often described as somewhat of a relief when J'skaar told stories of how Hala had died. There hadn't been any warnings, any signs that her time had come. She simply flopped down in the sand when she had finally gone back to work and died right then and there. "She was a very old Mander," J'skaar would tell Eclipse from time to time. "And she didn't like you one bit."

Eclipse shivered. She often wondered why she had been tossed in with the Manders, and more so why they were treated so poorly. Perhaps if she had been tossed in with some other group – perhaps with the humans or even the Kroks – she would think differently, but that wasn't the case, so she disregarded the possibilities more times than she could count.

As the thoughts slowly wandered about in her mind, her brilliant ice-blue eyes opened, blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the gloom surrounding her. She had taken up refuge in a small abandoned building not far from Shar. It was a beaten up old place with crumpled down stone furniture and various webs in the corners. There was a roof over her head though, and no matter how holey it was it was ultimately much better – not to mention safer – than the old tent J'skaar lived in.

The ageing Thyro had told her it was illegal for humans and Kroks to reside with the Manders. It was to be used as a punishment, nothing more, so anyone who wasn't a slave that was seen dawdling around in those areas were taken to a prison cell or tasked with 'community service', the time allotted often depending on who the person was and what they were doing. She often missed sleeping by his side, his soft voice singing different lullabies to lull her to sleep, but now that she was older some things had finally started to make sense to her.

The young girl sighed and stood up, keeping her hands on the walls to feel her way around. Not much light was coming into the small building, and the little that did was rather disturbed, the windows barred and the holes in the roof too small to provide any real light. Finally, when she reached the old door toward the front of the building, she cracked it open slightly, peering outside to see if any Kroks could be seen. Nothing. She let out a small, shaky sigh of relief and slipped out of the building, quickly yet cautiously making her way eastward towards Shar.

The small neighborhood that separated Shar from her little hideout was completely made up of humans. Human guards, human inhabitants of varying rank, human-made decor. True there was the odd Krok or Mander hanging about, but no one who would pay any attention to her, the girl who kept to herself. As she weaved among the people, careful to avoid stepping on anyone's toes, she wondered how J'skaar was. How many times had he been whipped today? Was he going to be in a lot of pain once the day ended? Or would he end up like Hala, fallen to the ground and rotting away without reason?

"Hey, Eclipse!" Startled Eclipse spun around, hands clenched, as a group of kids approached her, at their head a smug-looking boy with short, flimsy blonde hair and a freckled face.

"Dimitri…" she murmured cautiously, her muscles tensing. Dimitri's smug grin widened, his little group of kids chuckling behind him.

"Ain't often we see ya 'round this time. Ya know this is our neighborhood, so get out," he snapped his fingers and pointed behind him at no particular place. Eclipse bared her teeth, wondering if she should just fight back. _I wouldn't win if I did…_ Dimitri, however, took this as an open challenge to his 'authority_'._ A girl behind him shot over to his side, dark eyes blazing furiously.

"Why don't you back off little girl, before you have to go crawling back to your Mander-scum friends bawling like a baby!"

"I'm the same age as you guys," Eclipse snapped. "You're just as little as I am!" Dimitri and the unknown girl both exchanged a swift, vicious glance, and when they turned back to their prey a dark crimson card had slipped into each of their hands. Eclipse visibly flinched when she saw them, all of her previous determination gone in a pinch. _Now I've done it…_

She had turned and started running as soon as the two burning Fire-spell symbols had materialized mid-air. When the two bullies joined it with their cards, two identical fire cats simultaneously leapt from the collision, covered in ash and flame. Upon their casters' command they charged after Eclipse at a surprising amount of speed. As Eclipse turned a corner, one of them jumped onto a roof and bolted down the center, eventually making a sharp turn and landing in front of her, blocking her escape route. Eclipse cursed silently under her breath, skidding to a halt and ready to make a bolt back the way she came, but the other fire cat had blocked that way as well, a menacing look blazing in his yellow-orange eyes.

She was trapped.

"She's down that way!" Eclipse scanned her surroundings, a wild look in her eyes as she tried to find another escape route, but the alley way was a narrow one, with either walls or fire cats on every side. Quickly she relayed any possible ways to get around her obstacles. She envisioned scaling the walls, but that would result in a possible broken arm or two if she fell, and there were no points where she could grab onto and haul herself up. _I can try jumping over one of the cats, but… _The fire cats weren't especially strong spells and only reached to her stomach height-wise, but what made her question the motive was that their flames could rise at any given time, either burning her directly or catching her ragged clothes on fire, and despite being the lowest ranked spell their flames still burned as hot as the sun, if not more so.

She ran her hands through her hair, sweat beading her forehead and neck as one of the cats drew in closer, hissing and snapping at her feet. Behind her the sound of rushing footsteps had told her that the group had finally caught up to her. Dimitri in particular seemed to savor the sight of her trapped in between two fire cats like a cornered mouse, laughing hysterically and clutching his sides.

"What now Eccy? No runnin' now!" he sniggered between spurts of laughter. Eclipse cursed her poor luck before turning her back on the group. _No success without a little risk…_and with that thought in mind, Eclipse took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She allowed her feet to carry her as fast as they could toward the fire cat, and when her eyes flung open once again she leapt as high as she could.

She wasn't sure what gave her the strength to do it, she wasn't sure how something like it was possible, but she had made it. Somersaulting on the ground beyond the Fire creature she staggered to her feet and ran as fast as she could toward one of the buildings. Perhaps it had been pure luck, or perhaps her long legs were useful for something after all. Whatever it was, she was simply grateful that the Tritons were on her side for once. She quickly rushed into one of the larger public buildings, quickly shutting the door behind her and hiding behind a wall, barely peeking into the window to look out for her pursuers. Dimitri and his posse ran right past the building she was in, yelling obscenities as they rushed past.

Eclipse heaved a sigh of relief, looking away from the window and sliding her back down the wall. Dmitri's gang was previously just another group of bullies, using their words to fight but never taking physical action. As her nerves quieted down, a sudden question to mind. _Since when was Dimitri a Caster?_

"Hey kid! What're you doing here?" Eclipse flinched and glanced up to see an old man sitting behind a desk, his blue eyes glistening cautiously. The room was littered with a bunch of different books and scrolls, some lined neatly on bookcases while others were thrown about haphazardly. Eclipse scrambled to her feet in surprise when she realized she was inside a library.

"Mis discuplas, sir!" she gasped, standing up as straight as she could. Libraries weren't often off-limits to kids, but some were, especially by places so close to slave neighborhood. The old man wrinkled his nose in distaste as he examined the girl in front of him, who looked just as haphazard as his room. Her shoulder-length black hair was so tangled and unkempt he was sure it was just a large rat curled on top of her head, and her white tank top and cloth-sack pants were stained beyond belief. It was very clear to him he was dealing with one of two things: an orphan or a slave. Possibly both. He sniffed, disgusted, and stroked his long white beard before turning back to whatever work he was doing.

Eclipse watched, uncertain as to what she should do. She looked around the room, awed by the many books in her midst. While she had never been taught to read, she loved stories. One day she hoped she would be able to read them all. The old man looked up again, this time looking more annoyed than cautious.

"Something you need, kid? If not then get out of my hair!" He waved his hand in a shooing motion and looked back at his desk. Eclipse bit her lip.

"A-actually, sir, can I ask you a question?" The man let out an aggravated sigh, his feather-pen plopping quietly down on the desk.

"Spit it out, then, before I change my mind,"

"How does someone become a Caster?" At this the man visibly flinched, like he had been stabbed in the chest by an unseen dagger. His wrinkled features softened and his voice lightened up slightly as he turned around to look fully at Eclipse.

"You don't know?" Eclipse shook her head, an honest look of curiosity and confusion on her dark skinned face. The man leaned back in his seat, surprised. Most girls her age knew about it already. _Yep, _he thought. _There's definitely an orphan in my midst. _"They usually go to a magic school. Casters – or wizards, as kids like to call them these days – are born with magic-blood and go to school in order to learn how to use their abilities. Why do you ask?"

"A few kids chased me with a few fire cat spells. They weren't Casters before, but now they are…" Eclipse cocked her head curiously. "How do you know if someone has magic in their blood?"

_Inquisitive little brat…_he thought. "The Headmaster usually senses it in them when they go for orientation, or it's detected at birth by…whomever in the hell does that stuff," the old man waved his hand dismissively. "Often times there's also a test to go along with it. Foolish to me, but if it works then it works. Haven't you ever been tested?" Surely she would say yes; all humans were tested. They had the most capabilities after all. But to add to his many surprises, she shook her head.

"Would you be able to test me?" The man was very tempted to say no, tell her to get lost so he could finish his newest piece of writing entitled "Night of the Walking Raven", but all he did was nod, quickly jumping from his seat and shuffling through one of his random piles of scrolls. Eclipse wondered if the grouchy man had always wanted to test a kid for the magical adeptness, but from the half-irritated look in his eyes, she doubted it. He settled back down at his desk, jerking his head in such a way as to tell Eclipse to sit down in front of him.

"I've one test I can give you, kid. I'm just going to guess you can't read and ask the questions verbally, alright?" Eclipse nodded dumbly. Many of the questions were rather simple, asking which disaster was most powerful, what favorite activities were, things of the like. Most completed the test in a matter of a minute or so, but it took Eclipse several, often deep in thought and asking other questions like 'what does a sapphire look like' or 'what happens when a volcano explodes'. The old man thought it annoying at how poor Eclipse's education was and was quite relieved when the test was over. He began looking through a drawer in his desk, throwing out random miscellaneous items and cursing under his breath. Eclipse shifted awkwardly.

"So…what now?"

"I need to find my damn Phoenix pen. It's magical, and it's what most people use when giving the test. Made from a feather of a Phoenix," he muttered, slamming one drawer and opening the next in search for this so-called Phoenix pen. He hesitated, looking up. "What's your name, kid?"

"Eclipse," And more and more oddities just seemed to add on to the girl. Orphaned, uneducated, bullied, and now she's a name that's by all means a curse on Krokotopia? The old man snorted.

"Don't suppose others call you No-light for a nick name, eh?" he commented sarcastically. Eclipse shrugged.

"Some do," The old man bit his lip and didn't respond, instead focusing on his search. As he proceeded to the third and final drawer, Eclipse spoke again, picking the dirt from behind her fingernails and avoiding his oncoming gaze.

"May I know your name, sir?" The old man stopped for a brief moment, placing a pile of blank parchment on top of his desk before responding.

"Merle," he murmured. "My name is Merle Ambrose," suddenly he made a low 'a-ha!' and gently pulled out a large, majestic looking feather pen. The feather looked like a brand of fire even in the darkness of the room, little sparks of golden light gently showering off it every few seconds. Eclipse's eyes widened in awe, and Ambrose couldn't help but smirk. He turned the test sideways and scribbled something in fancy lettering. The ink was just like liquid gold pouring onto the page.

Ambrose set his magical pen down and grabbed a monocle, closing examining the now-glowing piece of parchment. "This may take a while…your hand," He absently put a hand out to her, and she let him take her own. Grabbing the pen again he began gently tracing the lines on her palm, her calloused hand hovering just above the test parchment.

"What school do you think I'll be?" Eclipse asked, watching carefully as he traced the many different lines, mesmerized by the gentle glow.

"You're a curious one. You're uneducated yet inquisitive. Stupid, but you make up for it in strength and stamina," he continued his careful tracing for a few moments without talking, and for a moment Eclipse thought the old man forgot what else he was going to say. Suddenly he spoke again. "I think you'll be a Pyromancer, possibly a Diviner though Storm-blood is quite rare here on Krokotopia," He snorted suddenly. "You've too many lines on your hand. I can't tell which are supposed to be there or which are just scars or scratches,"

"How do you know I have magic-blood?" Eclipse asked, completely disregarding the possible insult Ambrose uttered. He sniffed and looked at her coldly before responding.

"The Phoenix pen's special ink glows gold when in contact with the skin of a Caster. In case you don't know, the shiny, sparkly things happening to your hand is what you call 'glowing',"

"And why are you tracing the lines?" Again she disregarded his previous comment, which was positively an insult. Ambrose wondered briefly if the girl had just been insulted so many times she no longer thinks of it, or if she really was just flat-out stupid. He chose to go with the latter of the two.

"Because that's where blood-magic often channels itself when casting spells. When you've learned to control the magic, it usually comes out of your hands. More controlled that way you could say. You have to focus it in your palms, and through the lines in your hands magic and mana – the energy a Caster has stored in his body – seeps through, and thus you're able to use casting cards to summon creatures. It's a bit complicated; you'll have to have a teacher tell you more 'cause I'm just about done," suddenly he made an odd swirling design in the center of her palm, and for a final time he set his pen down again, looking at her hand carefully.

"I hope I'm a Pyro…" Eclipse murmured, more to herself than to Ambrose. While J'skaar had refused to tell her about her birth parents when she asked about them, he did tell her that they were both brilliant Pyromancers in their time, and seeing as fire was one of the most worshiped things on Krokotopia next to sunlight, she often thought that if she could learn Fire magic, then people would be more accepting of her. Ambrose did hear her comment, however, and briefly he wondered what her reasons for wanting to be a fire-mage could be. He sniffed and dismissed the thoughts that coursed through his mind, instead focusing on her palm as the lines slowly rearranged themselves into a symbol.

"So… what does the test do if the pen does all the work?" Eclipse asked, starting the questions up again as she carefully watched her palm.

"Rumor has it your choices reflect your personality, and personality reflects who you are a wizard. Stereotypical if you ask me,"

"Yet you do it?"

"It's modern. Don't kids like modern things these days?" The comment was practically seething with sarcasm and impatience, so Eclipse didn't respond, just continued looking at her palm. Suddenly the lines stopped moving, the symbol rearranged to a swirling circle with a half-finished box at the bottom. The golden color had changed to a night black with a white light rimming it. Ambrose made a sort of coughing sound, suddenly ripping the parchment away from beneath her hand before Eclipse could get a good look at it.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing," Ambrose answered sharply, rolling up the parchment and whispering some sort of incantation on it before stuffing it back on a bookcase. Grabbing the pen he safely tucked it in the folds of his worn-out royal blue cloak. Muttering he turned and started browsing his bookcase, biting his already short nails in nervousness.

"Is…is something wrong Mr. Ambrose?" Eclipse asked, startled_. Had something gone wrong? Am I something bad? _As she spoke, all tension seemed to leave Ambrose's body, his hands lowering slowly back to his sides. The scruffy haired man let out a deep breath before turning back to Eclipse, a very faint smile on his face.

"No, nothing's wrong at all. I just got burned by the ink on the parchment is all…" he let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. "You see," he added quickly when Eclipse opened her mouth to interject. "You're a Pyromancer!"

"Really?" Eclipse's brilliant blue eyes lit up in excitement and she immediately jumped from her feet, all thoughts of the odd symbol on her hand vanished from her mind. Ambrose nodded quickly, suddenly grateful that this girl wasn't the brightest, otherwise she wouldn't be so easily convinced. Eclipse felt her lips curl into a wide smile. She glanced about the room again, looking at the various books. "Do you think any of your books could help to teach me how to use magic?"

Ambrose stared at her in surprise. "I thought little No-Light couldn't read?"

"I can always try, right?" Eclipse felt a strong spark of hope, burning in her chest as bright and hot as the will of a Pyromancer. "I can try and find someone to help me too," Ambrose hesitated, scratching his chin through his scraggly long beard.

"I suppose you can take a few Pyromancy books from that shelf over there if you want…" he nodded his head toward a seemingly neat line of books, all of which leather-bound and colored determined by school-type. "The dark mahogany books are Fire-school books. Take as many as you'd like, No-Light,"

Now Ambrose was almost sure Eclipse no longer paid any mind to insults or horrible nick-names, as she simply nodded and made her way over, pulling down every book of the named color and holding as many as she could in her long, skinny arms. She nodded gratefully at Ambrose. Eclipse felt the happiest she's been since she could remember, knowing that she had Fire-blood coursing through her veins and a revitalized hope for the future. Ambrose watched almost sullenly as she kicked the door open, careful not to drop any of the books she was carrying.

"No-Light!" He suddenly called once she set foot outside his little library, and surprised Eclipse looked over her shoulder. The old man hesitated, cracking his knuckles and heaving a deep sigh. "Come back tomorrow around this time if you're able. I can help teach you about Pyromancy,"

Eclipse's eyes widened, at first in disbelief, then a raw gratitude, and again she nodded, making her way down the road. Ambrose stood and walked over to the doorway, amazed at how a few mere seconds can change an overly-grateful and happy girl into one so cautious and sullen, for when he got a glimpse of her face her smile had been replaced with a frown, the joyous glint in her eyes nothing but a flicker of the sun reflecting in them. In a few mere seconds, she had somehow managed to return to the frightened little girl who had strayed into his library.

It truly was remarkable how these times of torment and slavery could affect a child.

Ambrose heaved yet another sigh, closing the door and returning to his desk. He sat down and wiped off the sweat from his forehead before grabbing his simple quill pen and continuing his long-awaited story. A part of him was glad he offered the girl – no matter how stupid and gullible she was – some help. It was the least he could do for lying to her.

_**AN: I don't normally leave reviews at the end of the chapter, but... Ambrose is WAY OOC, I know. You always see him depicted as that grandfatherly guy who looks after everyone though. Considering this is the past, I always wondered if he were more of a grouch before he founded Ravenwood. Maybe it was after he started teaching that he realized "hey, I'm a big fat arsey grouch! I should change that!"**_

_** The time setting specifically with these beginning chapters will be right before Ambrose discovers Bartleby, so if your confused by the time, it's a lil' helper. Ravenwood is about a thousand years old in my mind, so basically a thousand years in the past. **_

_**Guess that's it for notes. Hopefully I won't leave another lengthy end-note for a while... While I'm here though reviews are always appreciated! :D**_


	3. Chapter 2: A Lesson in Pyromancy

_**AN: A bit shorter than I would typically like, but still in the 3,000 word range. This chapter isn't exciting, and personally I don't think it's well written, but it's important to future, very-soon-to-come events. ;) Anyways, thank you to those who reviewed! And now, my responses:  
**_

**_Firestorm Nauralagos:_ Thank you for the review midear. Always good to hear one of the greatest W101 fanfic writer compliment my writing :3 As for possible corrections, I have one word: typos. I looked at the previous chapter and I see so many typos thrown about, so if you wanna give con-crit but can't find anything, point out typos. XD  
**

_**Ammaarah01: **_**Ambrose is a bastard ain't he? Don't worry, he lightens up...slightly. xD And yes, she is a Necro. As for why he lied? You'll find out in a later chapter x)**

_**The**** Dimenssionalist**_**: ****Firstly, thanks for the kind words! :) Secondly, I'm going to reiterate what I told you before about inconsistencies. A lot of what you pointed out was again more based on perception than actual fact (okay..the Gamma part was fact...but I'mma use him later, so patienceee :P). I won't be changing anything on age/time simply because it works out better for me. Thanks for pointing them out though! (Especially Gamma...I completely forgot about him...)  
**

**Chapter 2: A Lesson in Pyromancy  
**

The villagers, both human and Mander alike, cast odd glances in Eclipse's direction as the young girl stumbled down the street, balancing several books in her spindly hands and swooping down to pick one up should it fall. They all knew that she was illiterate, uneducated, so seeing her with all of those books sparked a sudden, rather baffled interest in her. Those who saw her slip out from behind the library doors and knew of the crotchety old man behind those walls were even more astonished. Despite his short stay in Krokotopia they knew old man Ambrose didn't care much for children, especially those as indignified as Eclipse. However, despite the odd phenomenon, their interest in the girl vanished as soon as she was out of their line of sight. Once the orphan with the books could no longer be seen, everyone just went about their daily lives without a single thought on just what the girl was doing.

Eclipse was used to those stares though. She was used to their bewilderment, and as a result she refused to let them falter her stride. She swiftly made her way through the dusty streets of the Krokotopian village, moving as fast as she could without dropping the books and sending billowing clouds of sand in her wake. Her eyes darted all around her, scanning her surroundings with a near-terrified aura about her. The last thing she needed was to run into Dimitri and his gang when she had no way of properly protecting herself.

Thankfully, the trip back to her small hide-out went on without incident, and while a few of the Krok guards cast her suspicious glances every now and then they didn't bother to confront her. They had no reason to; the orphan girl kept to herself, so her strange and baffling ways wouldn't affect them in the slightest. Eclipse breathed a quick, silent thanks to the Titans as she slipped into the confines of the long-forgotten abandoned building, the old wooden door creaking loudly as it closed behind her.

She continued onto another room, where the sun managed to light up nearly every corner of the broken down would-be office. Large holes in the roof, barely covered by a dirtied white tarp, permitted an almost candle-like setting to the place - not too bright but just bright enough to see where she was putting her feet. In the center of the room was an old sandstone desk, with chips broken off it and long since buried in the sand. The crimson and cerulean markings that once adorned the masterpiece were nothing but a faded memory on the destroyed furniture. Wood pieces - ranging from large planks to tiny splinters that would often slice into Eclipse's bare feet - littered the ground around it, presumably from some broken up bookcase. Piles of books lined each of the surrounding walls, all of which so distorted by the elements that they were fragile and ineligible, crumbling in Eclipse's hands or the writing so faded even the most literate person on Krokotopia couldn't decipher the words once written in them.

Eclipse proceeded to dump the books onto the desk, neatly lining them up in no particular order. Each of them varied in thickness, some made from a very thin piece of paper and others made of the highest quality parchment she had ever seen. There were two things each one had in common though: the smooth, mahogany-colored leather binding, and a tribal-like symbol on the center of each cover that looked to resemble fire. She ran her fingers along the cover of one of the thicker books, feeling the smooth texture before opening it to the first page. The writing that the book concealed was small, but it was smoother than anything she had ever seen. Had she been literate, she felt the the strange symbols that marked the pages could have been easily read.

She turned a few pages, coming across a well-detailed, almost realistic picture of seven dragons, each having a different symbol on their chest. At their head was a very large dragon with long, sharp spines running all along his body, and on his chest was the same fire symbol that marked the books. They looked to be powerful, like they were guardians or lords of some distant land. This sparked a sudden interest in Eclipse. Who were these dragons? What impact did they play in the history of Pyromancy? As more of these questions went unanswered, the more they fueled her curiosity, and she continued to look at the various pictures in the book, admiring the beastly dragons and majestic birds of fire Eclipse could only assume was a Phoenix.

She continued staring at these pictures until the sun had long since set behind the tall pyramids of her homeworld. She smiled to herself - something she's allowed herself to do much of during the day - and grabbed the book off the desk, hugging it to her chest before once again heading off into the village. The fragile half moon hung limply in the velvet night sky, like it was dangling from a loose piece of fabric left unsown from the Spiral. A single star, glistening a beautiful azure blue, danced elegantly at its side.

Had she been educated, Eclipse would have known that that star was actually a world, one left uninhabited and only recently discovered by astronomers of Marleybone. When word spread out, everyone began to gossip and wonder about the strange place, mesmerized by the enchanting glow in the night sky as they pointed it out to their children. Instructors at Krokotopia's School for the Naturally Gifted were currently trying to formulate lessons on this strange new world and had begun to tell their students to speak with a visitor on Krokotopia, one from the far-off realm of Avalon, who had been sent out in order to explore this new land. They were sure that the students would learn much from his great many years of experience and maybe - just maybe - they would get a few lessons of magic from one of the greatest known wizards in the Spiral.

Eclipse, however, didn't go to school, so to her that star was just a star, not a far off, fantastical world. To her, the man on the journey to this unexplored land was just another passerby, someone who would visit Krokotopia for only a short while, then leave the wasteland behind. She didn't know her new mentor was the one who was sent out on this mission.

As she ran through the streets of the rundown village, she wondered just who old man Ambrose was. He didn't give an impression of importance, but he certainly didn't seem like some poor librarian either. She was more than grateful for his help in learning Pyromancy, but another part told her to stray away from him. He was a wizened and seemingly powerful old man, but bitter too. Very bitter.

Her thoughts ceased as she entered Shar. Eclipse bit her tongue as if it would protect her from the ungodly stench of the slave neighborhood, a mingled aroma of sweat, blood, and the rotting flesh of dead Manders. She knew that no matter how many times she would enter and leave Shar, the labor induced smells would be something she would never get used to.

In the short thirteen years of Eclipse's life, Shar hardly changed. The Manders continued to be shackled at the ankles, they worked night and day in multiple laborious and unnecessary occupations, and cared little about the brothers and sisters that died around them, for they all knew that, in time, each one of them would die a slave's death. As she carefully passed by the tents and crumpled buildings, she met the eyes of a Silla Mander sitting out in the sun. His coarse violet skin was cracked and bleeding, and he was thinner than even J'skaar was, every single bone in his body visible. What really got to Eclipse, however, was the lifeless look in his eyes. No hope or even aggression typical of a Silla sparked in those yellow depths, just an aching tiredness and a longing to die. Eclipse shivered, hugging her book to her chest and continuing on. Briefly she wondered if those had been the eyes of Hala on her passing day. She wondered if he, the Mander who would forever be a stranger to her, was the next to die.

She paused in front of the old, tattered tent J'skaar had taken refuge in, which had even more rips and tears than on the fateful night Eclipse had first arrived in Shar. She took in a deep breath, momentarily lingering in the night and breathing in the tainted air. She knew that farther into Shar, in the restricted areas, there were piles of decaying Mander bodies rotting away in the heat of the desert sun. She had been there once several years ago in an attempt to find J'skaar. Needless to say, the never-ending sea of dead bodies had scarred her, and since she's only visited her adoptive father in the seclusion of night, when she knew he would be in his tent.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and ducked into the tent. The small interior was completely devoid of any objects save a pile of dry ferns and hay that acted as a nest. J'skaar was kneeling beside a wall of the tent, weaving cloth into the fabric in an attempt to seal a rather large hole. Eclipse bit her lip, hugging her book more tightly as she silently watched him work, examining his emaciated body that just seemed to grow more broken down with each passing day. His dry, midnight blue skin was stretched thinly over crooked bones that failed to heal properly when he once broke them. Sists, welts, and scars - both new and old - ravaged his body. His pale yellow-gold eyes were weighed down with tiredness, exhausted by the labor of the day and filled with hopelessness.

After a few moments J'skaar finally looked up, and upon seeing Eclipse he let out a tired sigh. "Did I not I tell you to come through the back?"

"Sorry," Eclipse murmured, lowering her gaze to the ground. J'skaar's eyes softened, and he reached out a wrinkled hand, resting it on the center of her chest where her heart was. It was a Mander gesture used to show compassion, or to apologize for something, an act of kindness Eclipse personally thought everyone should do. The aging Thyro Mander leaned back on his knees, eyes glinting with a very faint curiosity as he noticed the book. "What is that?"

"A book," Eclipse shrugged a she stated the obvious, then settled down beside him on the scratchy, uncomfortable nest. J'skaar raised an eyebrow inquisitively before moving closer beside her, looking at the book with barely suppressed interest. Eclipse glanced at him. "Do you know how to read?" At this, the old Mander frowned as he thought.

"Hieroglyphs and Basic yes, I can." He traced a long, spindly finger along the symbol on the cover of the book. "Did I ever tell you that hieroglyphs used to be the universal language for all magic? It is how the symbols used for the seven schools of magic came about. This one, for the Fire school, means eternal flame." Eclipse listened attentively, eyes wide as he went on to tell her about the other symbols of the schools, how Ice was 'stable frost' and Storm was 'raging spark'. Eclipse knew that J'skaar knew much in his many years of life despite being a slave, at least about the magics, and she constantly thought that the only reason he never taught her was because he simply hated magic. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye. "Where did you get this?"

"From a man named Merle Ambrose. He resides in the library not far from here." She pointed in the direction she came from, like it would somehow help the Mander determine just where it was despite the white walls of the tent. J'skaar smiled fondly at the child, thoughts coursing through his mind like a rushing river. He knew the old wizards name. Slave owners and Krok guards alike had told the slaves to steer clear of the 'old man in a coarse blue cloak'. He was a powerful mage and, just like the young kids at the school, he knew his stay would be short. He wondered just how close Eclipse had gotten to this man, or at least what she suspected was a bond. His daughter was naive young girl; it was easy for her to mistake acquaintanceship for friendship.

"He gave you a Pyro book?" he asked, gently taking the book from her and feeling the smooth parchment, admiring the pictures inside. Eclipse nodded, leaning against his shoulder and looking at the book.

"He gave me multiple. Can you read me this one?" J'skaar was surprised about the question. His daughter was an inquisitive young girl, true, but she never showed an interest in learning, not in literature, mathematics, history, magic. It was the only reason he had never taught her how to read hieroglyphs. She had an interest in stories and written works, but it was almost feigned. She never had a passion or desire to learn much of anything. Still, he nodded his head, and turned to the first page.

"Before the mages ruled the lands, there was a time of turmoil and war, a time where Titans soared the skies and roamed the lands. The greatest of these Titans were the Dragons, the winged beasts of Fire and the first users of Pyromancy..."

That night, after J'skaar had promptly read three chapters of the book, Eclipse had fallen asleep on his shoulder, a thin line of drool trailing down her chin and dripping onto his arm. He smiled fondly at his daughter before laying her in his nest, brushing a few strands of matted hair out of her face before standing and making his way out of the tent. The work of a slave was never ending, no matter the age of the Mander.

* * *

"No no no! Not like that!" Eclipse bit her lip in a mixture of annoyance and shame as the symbol - a tribal fire sign that matched the ones on the books - disintegrated and fell into a measly pile of ash on the ground, little embers dying out gradually. Ambrose let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in his office chair and rubbing his temples. "This is precisely why I told you to come earlier, No-Light! I wanted to have enough time to teach the proper technique for spell-casting!"

"Sorry... " Eclipse murmured quietly, kneeling down and sweeping up the ashes in an old iron pan, keeping her ice blue gaze lowered as she dumped it outside into a steadily growing mound. Ambrose frowned and watched her as she tidied up the mess she made. She was just as disgusting and dirt-covered as the day before, dressed in the same disgusting clothing and her curly black hair even more matted than before, a few pieces of straw tangled in the back of her head. He ran a hand through his shaggy grey-white hair with a sigh, looking flustered.

"Where do you live, kid? Doesn't the orphanage take care of their kids?"

"I don't live at the orphanage." At this, Ambrose raised an eyebrow in surprise. He could have sworn she was an orphan. Perhaps she was, and the orphanage just wouldn't take her, or she fled from the place at an early age in a fit of anger or sadness. Perhaps, Ambrose thought with a cringe, no one bothered to take her there. Eclipse met his gaze for a brief moment, then looked back down at her feet, picking the dirt and dried blood out from behind her fingernails.

"So...where do you live then?" He inquired carefully, curiously, his usually curt tone slightly more thoughtful.

"At an abandoned house about an hour north-west from here." As she said this, Ambrose found himself beginning to analyze her. _Okay, so she knows her directions. _"It's in the human alienated part of the village. Krok guards hardly patrol that area, so its easy to avoid being questioned." _She knows her way around the village and knows what she has to do to survive. _"The easiest route is over the walls." _She's strong and agile. _

"That's all very nice," he sniffed contemptibly, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. "Don't you thieve or something? Anything you can to survive?"

"Only food…" she shuffled her feet awkwardly, stirring a pile of sand around with her bare foot. "Sometimes I can mooch off markets, or sneak away with an apple."

"Only sometimes?"

"Food's only necessary when you're starving." Ambrose examined the girl in front of him once again. She was strong, naive, had a good sense of direction, and seemingly only cared about breathing and living. No more, no less. His thoughts trailed off to the slave neighborhood. Earlier that morning, he had walked through it. Emaciated, hopeless creatures known as the Manders worked tirelessly. One of them - a Silla if he recalled correctly - was being dragged behind the walls just beyond Shar, dead and rotting. They cared for being alive, even if it was only a partial care. They had no hope for anything else. Finally, a conclusion was drawn.

"You were raised by Mander folk?" Eclipse's head shot up the moment he said it, her icy eyes wide with astonishment. She opened her mouth as if to respond, then closed it again, speechless. How could he have known if she never once spoken of the Manders? Ambrose smirked and waved a hand over for her to come closer. She obliged reluctantly. "People think that any powerful wizard has the ability to look into the minds of others and pull out bits and parts of their life. This is not true...not always anyways. The real magic behind that is perception. You care only about surviving, the Manders only care about living."

"But they don't have any hope to stay alive. They know that. They don't care when their mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, sisters and brothers pass on. It all ends in the same slave's death." Eclipse would never forget that quote. The Manders lost hope in living and gave in to dying, and to explain this to Eclipse J'skaar had stated it the way she said it now. Family died, and that was that. Ambrose rested a calloused hand on her shoulder, his azure colored eyes softening so much that, to Eclipse, he seemed like a whole new person.

"I didn't say they had hope for living, I said they cared about it." He removed his hand and sat back. "You only care for surviving. Have hope? Not sure, but it's the same premise. You're strong enough to make it from the house to Shar to visit someone there, and a lot of times by the looks of it. Why don't you tell me about them?"

Eclipse hesitated, unsure what to think of the softer Merle Ambrose, then sat down on an old wooden chair close by, picking at her nails again. "When I was born, my father took me away to Shar to a Thryro named J'skaar and a Silla named Hala, who passed a year after. He - the Thyro - raised me until I could walk, run, and talk, then told me to go into the village and take refuge wherever I could. I only visit him at night, so no one questions my being in Shar." A wistful looked entered her eyes. "He would sing me lullabies when I was younger, and would tell me stories of Krokotopia's greatest kings and queens."

"Sounds like a good father." Ambrose commented thoughtfully. Eclipse nodded, beginning to bite her finger nails and looking anxious, a familiar fear plucking at her heart. The older man cocked his head, sympathy and understanding tearing at his normally stone-cold heart. Slaves died young. J'skarr was already old it seemed, and Ambrose knew his time was coming soon. He took a deep breath to steady himself, shaking the thoughts out of his mind. He clapped his hands together and stood from his seat.

"Right. Well, more training needs to be done if you've any hope of improving." And with that, Ambrose tugged her by the arm and pulled her out of her seat, all softness in his eyes gone in an instant.


End file.
